Summer Storm, Twilight Prince
by Rhiana Rae
Summary: It is little more than a month after Jean's supposed death, and the X-men have a night to themselves. Storm makes a twilight flight, and meets the one man who can inspire her to have faith again...(Feat. Nightcrawler)


Summer Storm, Twilight Prince  
Disclaimer: Not mine, wish they were. I'd do better things with them. Lol.  
Summary & A/N: This will be a short little fic, full of fluff and a little romance. The X-men finally have one night of peace and quiet; time to recover from their emotional wounds inflicted by Jean's disappearance and supposed death. The weather goddess goes for an evening flight, and meets up with the one man who can inspire her to have faith. Also, since I disagree with movieverse for leaving them out, some of the rest of the X- men will be mentioned. *Grin*  
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Summer Storm, Twilight Prince  
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"Goddess, what a week," Storm murmured to herself as she stepped into her bedroom. It was Friday night, the students were settled down in the rec. room, watching movies, and playing games. There was nothing to worry about this evening, nothing to stress over or dwell on.  
  
Except for Jean.  
  
Storm moved over to her dresser, where many frames of all sizes and shapes sat. Gently, she traced the outline of a picture of she and Jean, faces pressed together and grinning broadly. It was taken when Jean brought her to her first amusement park, back when she'd first joined the X-men. That had been a wonderful day.  
  
Another, larger picture, was a group shot of the entire team, taken little more than a month before. The whole of the mansion had taken part in a large softball game, and this picture was of Storm's team, unfortunately the losing side. She gazed at the faces in the picture, at Scott, Jean, Bobby, Jubilee, and herself in the back row, all of them grinning brightly and sweaty, clutching a trophy that read 'Not winners, but never losers!' that Bobby had thought would be funny, as he was in charge of having the trophies made. Crouching down in the front were Teresa Rourke and Sam Guthrie, both clutching bats and gloves, dirty and smiling like the rest of them.  
  
Next to this picture was the other team, holding high a trophy that said 'Winners, not wieners!' which Bobby had also thought was quite funny. In the back were Pyro, who was regretfully no longer with them. He had joined Magneto in the end, going to bigger and better things. Then came Colossus, Gambit, Archangel, Betsy Braddock, and Paige Guthrie, Cannonball's little sister, who was a recent addition to the school. Crouched down in front of the team, clutching hands in midair as though they were arm wrestling, but also grinning broadly, were Logan and Rogue.  
  
Storm smiled and sniffled, surprised that she had begun to cry. Those memories had been so happy and carefree, but now with the loss of Jean they had become precious, coveted things. She had been Storm's best friend, confidant, and sister in all but blood, and she was missed as such, by the whole of the mansion. Scott barely spoke to anyone these days, keeping to himself. Logan had taken over his classes for him, knowing that the younger man would need time to heal. It had been shattering for Logan, as well. Storm knew that he loved Jean, loved her with all his heart, and it was killing him to try and not show it in front of Scott. She knew that he wept at night, when he thought no one could hear. But she did. She knew how it felt, because often she wept along with him; wept for all the joyful memories that would be missed, and for the woman that was no longer with them.  
  
Choking back a sob, she turned from the happy pictures and looked out the window. The sun was just setting, painting everything in brilliant shades of crimson, pink, and lavender.  
  
She would fly. Her blood needed the soothing wind, her heart yearned for calming rains. Yes, she would fly. Fly away from all the pain and heartache being suffered in this mansion and in the hearts of its inhabitants.  
  
Shoving the window open, she stepped onto the ledge and lifted her face to the skies. Cool breezed caressed her skin like a lover's touch, and she welcomed the sensations like an old friend. How long it had been since she'd flown for the sheer joy, the sheer ecstasy of being one with nature, accepted wholly into its loving embrace. Here there was no judgment; there were no questions to be answered, no dangers to face. In the sky she was at home. Free.  
  
Slowly, a breeze lifted her, and she felt herself carried along, up, up, into the sky. Soon the grounds lay far beneath her, all their glory spreading far along. She followed the many paths with her eyes; down to the stables, to the courtyard, out to the lake, around the circular drive to the gates, back around to the extensive gardens and greenhouse that were her second home. All were empty now. Everyone was inside, nursing wounds of every kind.  
  
Blocking unhappy thoughts from her mind, she called up a current of warm wind and tilted her face once more to the heavens. It was ecstasy, this control, this precious power that she held. It was also a burden at times. She had to keep such a tight reign on her emotions, lest her anger or wrath cause more destruction than a nuclear bomb. Most people had such difficulty understanding her, understanding why she was so mild and quiet. Her emotional state affected the weather, and the very survival of the human and mutant race, indirectly.  
  
Perhaps the one person who had understood had been Jean, but she was gone now...  
  
A slight rain began to drizzle down on her honeyed skin, and she smiled, her eyes closed. Drifting lazily along, toward the thicket of trees at the south end of the complex, she did not realize that she had company.  
  
Nestled on a high branch, blending completely with his surroundings, Kurt Wagner, also known by his codename, Nightcrawler, watched the weather goddess wrestle with her emotions. Such a firm reign she had, he thought, as a single tear slipped down her cheek and, shimmering, he watched it all the way to the ground, where it rejoined the earth and fed the life there. To him, her powers were nothing less than a gift from God, and it was with this reverence that she tended them, though he was not certain she believed in a God any longer.  
  
From what he had learned from the Professor and other students at the school, Ororo's life had begun with tragedy and continued on as such. When she was a child, her mother and father had been killed in a bombing in Cairo. With them, she had been buried under the rubble, trapped with their lifeless bodies for God knew how long. Then, she learned to live on her own, picking pockets to get enough money to eat and survive. Soon, she became a master pickpocket, even picking Professor Xavier's pocket while he was there visiting. That had been their first meeting, before he had asked her to come to his school for mutants some years later, when her powers manifested themselves. She had lived as weather goddess in the plains of Africa for many years, though even then she was still a very young woman. The people revered and feared her for her powers, and she came to accept being hailed as a goddess. Her life was lonely and bleak at times, and there were times as well that she had been tempted to use her powers for ill. But through it all, she kept the memories of her mother and father close, their love and strength alive in her heart, and it had gotten her through.  
  
Kurt turned his attention back to Storm, who was now twirling lazily in the air, a serene smile spread across her face, her brilliant eyes shining in the fading light. There was no lightning, no thunder to mark her anger. Tonight, there was only the calm breeze and the warm rain, quenching the thirst of all those plants and animals whose fates rested within her hands. Nature gave her joy, breathed its pure life into her, and asked for naught back in return save her protection and love; she gave both in full measure, gladly.  
  
Suddenly, Storm turned and looked straight at him, and he jumped. The instinct to flee was strong, but he stood his ground nonetheless, holding his hand out to assist her as she touched down lightly on his branch. Her smile was radiant. "Good evening, Kurt. Trouble sleeping?"  
  
He shook his head. "I came here to pray, to be surrounded by God's wondrous creations. It seems another has found me," he added, and was grateful for the darkness and shadows, so that she might not see him blush.  
  
Storm looked at him, shocked. 'He's flirting with me!' she exclaimed to herself. Gracefully, she sat down, swinging her legs over the branch. "It is the same for me. I needed to be surrounded with life again. In there..."  
  
"It is too dead for you," he added. She jerked a glance at him and nodded, surprised that he could so easily read her. "You are a woman who needs to always be surrounded by growing things, nature. I can see it in your face when you use your gifts. God has given you a precious gift, and you do not take it lightly." His yellow eyes glowed with a gentle light, and she felt her very soul drawn to him in ways that she could not explain.  
  
"I can't afford to take it lightly. People's lives..."  
  
"Rest in your hands," he said, moving closer to her. He looked deeply into her eyes for long moments, seemingly reading her mind. But instead, he was reading her face, the emotions within, the thoughts and feelings. Suddenly he sat back on his heels, his expression sympathetic. "It was not your fault, Ororo," he said quietly.  
  
Her mouth opened and closed several times. "How did you know?"  
  
Kurt moved closer to her, gave her a gentle smile that revealed all of his glittering white teeth. "I can see it in your eyes. You comfort the others, but I can see your pain. Your very soul drips with grief, and yet you seek no comfort. Why?"  
  
"I try to be strong for them. If I collapse, who will be strong for the children?"  
  
"There was nothing you could have done, fraulein," he whispered softly, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face.  
  
"There had to have been something!" she cried, wrenching away. Her crystalline eyes flashed, and he saw now why the people of Africa feared her as a goddess, but also worshipped her. She was terribly beautiful to him then, powerful and mighty as any goddess could be. But her anger did not intimidate him. This was a shield, a powerful defense against emotions that she was afraid to unleash.  
  
"No lightning, nor thunder, nor snow, or wind, could have saved Jean," he said quietly. "She made a decision, Storm, just like you've been telling all the children. Now you have to believe it, as well."  
  
Suddenly, all the fire went out of her. She slumped down on the branch, and Kurt quickly gathered her into his arms. A rain began to fall in earnest as her tears wet the front of his shirt, growing louder and more forceful as she let her pain and sorrow out. He closed his eyes and tipped his head back, holding her close to his chest and stroking her wet hair. The rains of her sorrow poured over him, and instead of feeling cold and alone he felt warm and content. He was giving her what comfort he could, and she was accepting it gratefully. With him, she didn't have to be strong, or pretend that she was unaffected. She could be honest with him and not fear that he would judge her for it, a gift that was invaluable, that she would treasure always.  
  
Finally, when her body ceased shaking and her tears stopped, the clouds subsided and the rains dwindled to a barely discernible mist. Both of them were dripping wet now, their hair plastered to their foreheads, their clothing soaked through to the skin.  
  
"I'm afraid we look a fright, fraulein," he teased, and she looked up at him, an uncertain smile on her face.  
  
"I am sorry. It's my fault. I..."  
  
"Shh," he said, placing a finger against her lips and trailing it down her cheek. "Do you feel better?"  
  
She nodded.  
  
"Good. Then may I suggest a cup of hot chocolate to soothe away the storm?" She knew he was talking about more than just the rain, but smiled and allowed him to help her stand. He started to teleport, then remembered her certain dislike for it. "Perhaps we will walk?" he hedged, but Storm shook her head.  
  
"Why don't we fly?" she said, smiling. It was a small thing to give in return for the comfort he had shown her, but it was a start.  
  
"I have always wanted to fly," he said, smiling as she called up a wind that carried them gently back to the mansion.  
~~Fin~~  
  
A/N: I told you it was fluffy! Lol. Let me know how you liked it! I've always like Storm and Kurt as a pair, even when they were in the old cartoons... Lol. Well, thanks for reading!  
  
~Rhiana~ 


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